Everybody Talks
by purpledragon6
Summary: AU in which The Beta kids are all high school students and have their own dramas to put up with such as romance, substance abuse, teen pregnancies, and criminal records. Pairings include JackxDirk, hinted RoxyxBro but not much.


**A/N: Second HomeStuck fic.**

**Prologue:**

* * *

Your name is Roxy Lalonde. You are only 16 years old and are in your Sophomore year of Highschool. You exit your last period class where you have just recieved another F for that weeks homework but you don't really care. You just want to toss your shit into your locker and leave this school for the next two and a half days but before you can get to your locker, you feel a hand on your arse and quickly turn to see whose hand it is.

"Hey Blondie! See you at tonight's game!" A random jock calls out to you as you walk passed, his hand swiping your bottom rather quickly in a somewhat affection manner, but you're not his girlfriend.

Or a cheerleader, or a band member, or even a friend of his. You're just some whore to him and the only reason why you are going to that game tonight is so that he can give you what you want, and so you can return the favor to him, but what is it that you want?

A loving family, who doesn't abuse you and every given turn. A friend who will stay by your side? Or even a boyfriend would be nice to have, but all to quickly you are snapped out of your unrealistic daydream to face the harsh reality that is a cold, metal, locker door hitting you square on the nose.

"I could really use a drink right now." You growl out as you remember what you wanted. A drink.

No, not some water or soda or even a nice, cool glass of orange juice that you always loved as a child. You want something stronger, something that will make all of your worries turn to nothing but water colors, slowly washing away the more sips you take. Something that will leave you with a pounding head-ache and every regret in the world on your shoulders. Something that made your life seem better in comparison.

"Hope he brings me some scotch." You mutter as you rub your pained nose and turn to the combination mechanism on the locker's door and quickly spin the dial.

**16, 23, 14**

You have an easy way to remember those numbers. 16 is your current age, 23 is probably what age you'll die at, and 14 is when your drinking habit began. With one final spin to that dreaded number, you pull at the lock but it stays locked up tight. With a groan, you try the lock three more times before you finally cry out in frustration and begin to bang your head on the locker next to your's.

"Need a hand?" A cool and sly sounding voice snaps behind you, making you jump in surprise.

You turn quickly and see a blonde male, wearing black and pointed anime styled shades. His white t-shirt fits him tightly, only showing how toned he is and his black jeans fit him loosely. To top off the look with accessories are black finger-less gloves and a grey baseball hat.

"Sure." You mutter dryly as you step aside and let him have a crack at it.

One try and he fails just like you. The second, he leans all his weight on the door and tries yet again, this time, the lock pops opened and your locker door swings opened and your history text-book falls out, followed by a stream of papers.

"It was just jammed." He says with a smirk and a fold of his arms. "You should be more organized."

"You know you can go now." You snap darkly, hating this man's attitude and tone.

"Just got here today, think I'll stay a little while." He jokes as he nudges your ribs playfully. "Names Branden by the way."

"Brad? Sounds a little mainstream don't you think?" You laugh loudly as you toss your books down and grab your purse.

"My friends call me Bro. That to mainstream for you?" He challenged with a wider smirk.

"Yes. Do you have a better name?" You share his smirk as you two glare at one another.

"Strider." He says bluntly as he suddenly turns on his heels and begins to walk away and its at that moment that something clicks inside you and you know you and this Strider kid would not get along well and you would more than likely end up smashing your empties over his thick head.

"As in the ranger from Lord of the Rings?" You call after him crudely but he just keeps on walking, ignoring you like everybody else does and that drink seems even more tempting by now, but you can't get it until later.

You don't worry to much about it though, you have other ways of relieving your anger...


End file.
